


four seasons, everlasting

by iridescence (10softbot)



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Falling In Love, Introspection, Love, Love Languages, M/M, No Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 18:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30043023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/iridescence
Summary: Sunwoo finds love through the seasons, in a boy whose smile can light up the world even in the darkest nights. He finds love in small gestures and unspoken words, in someone that feels most like home than any place could ever feel.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Sunwoo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	four seasons, everlasting

**Author's Note:**

> i often think of the way chanhee shows people he loves them, and i had to write a fic on love languages because yes

Sunwoo finds love in a field of flowers, on a sunny spring day.

Romantic as it sounds, the situation isn’t as quite. Chanhee is allergic to pollen, and though he insists he is fine, his red-rimmed eyes tell Sunwoo otherwise. Sunwoo loves flowers, always in awe of the way nature gives them life and colors, the way it wafts fragrances into the air and gives him a sense of inner peace. Chanhee is also sensitive to smells, and strong perfumes leave him in a sneezing fit.

But Sunwoo loves flowers, and so Chanhee insisted on bringing him out to the fields.

Chanhee hugs his coat closer to his body with one hand, the other holding the analog camera and aiming it directly at Sunwoo. Sunwoo doesn’t pose for pictures unless told to, Chanhee's constant nagging at him for not smiling to the camera something he has gotten used to at this point. He doesn’t need any of this, anyway; Chanhee always manages to capture the most beautiful and breathtaking snapshots, with or without Sunwoo's help.

It must be the tenth time Chanhee sneezes into his mask. Sunwoo knows he is annoyed and can hear it in the low grumble as he reaches into his coat for a new mask, can see it in the light furrow of his brows and the bright red on the tip of his nose even though he doesn’t say a word to express as such.

It is only when he is being chased by a swarm of bees that Chanhee latches onto his hand and starts running towards the road. If he is annoyed by Sunwoo's loud laughter or embarrassed by the way Sunwoo calls him sweeter than honey, he makes no mention of it.

All Sunwoo knows is that he adores his windswept hair and the flush on his cheeks, and the way his bony fingers wrap around his.

🌸☀️

Sunwoo finds love in an ice cream bar as it runs down his chin and drips onto his shirt.

The chocolate stain is one he has had to wash off one too many times, and it is surprising that the white fabric still hasn’t been permanently stained brown. Under the scorching heat of the summer sun, the bar quickly melts on his fingers and leaves them sticky. The once Mickey-shaped treat barely resembles the character now, and it does little to alleviate how warm he feels.

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve grabbed some napkins on their way out of the convenience store. He supposes wiping it clean on his shorts will have to do; he is definitely not making his way across the busy avenue and back to the store for some paper napkins.

The ocean waves wash up the shore and crash against the rocks, droplets of water splashing under their feet. Sunwoo's world is colored pink behind the lenses of Chanhee's heart-shaped glasses perched on his nose, his own sunglasses resting on top of Chanhee's head. The sunlight that shines down on him through the gaps of the palm tree leaves above them stripes his skin with a beautiful glow, and he indulges himself with staring while Chanhee isn’t looking.

Chanhee loves the ocean, and it is something Sunwoo has stored away in his brain since the first time he stated so. Sunwoo remembers how the grass felt under his body and how bright the stars were shining that night, tents forgotten in exchange for stargazing as the bonfire burned away at their feet in the backyard of his grandma’s house. Chanhee had said he wanted to be a siren in his next life, and Sunwoo still thinks the idea of him luring sailors to their death in the dark waters of the ocean is equally as haunting as it is beautiful.

The voicing of said thought earns him a well given punch on the arm, and he decides not to mention it again.

It’s only when Chanhee nudges him with his elbow that Sunwoo realizes he has been spacing out, wooden stick now being ruined by the grinding of his teeth. He looks down in time to see Chanhee pulling a handful of napkins from his bag, offering it to him without a word. He goes back to sipping on his ade as soon as Sunwoo takes it from his hand, and only waves him off when Sunwoo mutters a sheepish _thanks._

Sunwoo finds he doesn’t mind the salt on his skin nor the sand in his shorts, or the way his clothes cling uncomfortably to his body when Chanhee shoves him a little too roughly as they walk down the beach and sends him stumbling into the water. Chanhee's screams are loud as Sunwoo chases after him, and his laughter as Sunwoo wraps his arms around his middle fills Sunwoo's chest with unbridled joy.

Sunwoo had once compared his feelings to a sandcastle, bound to be washed away and forgotten with time. Instead, his feelings have grown as big and deep as the ocean, going further than the eyes can see.

Sunwoo is a romanticist but not a poet, and if he could, he would compare Chanhee to the warm rays of sunshine or the raging tides of the ocean. Things are like other things and all that.

As it is, he ought to see a doctor if his heart keeps on beating this erratically over paper tissues and shared water bottles.

☀️🍂

Sunwoo finds love in a bottle of cough syrup, a bowl of soup and warm blankets.

He should’ve gotten used to this by now, to getting sick as the seasons change and the leaves start yellowing outside, and yet it still catches him off guard every time. He has conventionally named autumn the Sick Season, and figures he needs to find a place where he can get a subscription to have tissue boxes delivered to his place at the same time of the year, every year. He weakly throws the now crumpled and gross tissue at the trashcan next to his bed, the white pile surrounding it a true testament to how horribly awful his aim is.

Sunwoo rests back on his pillow with a groan, his head feeling ten times heavier than it usually does. The nasal congestion isn’t something he is ever going to get used to, and breathing through his mouth only makes his sore throat worse. He coughs into his pillow, wishing he had the energy to get up and close his bedroom curtains so the sunlight will stop hurting his eyes.

The noises Chanhee makes as he frets around in his kitchen echo through his small apartment, the beeping of his microwave louder than he ever remembers it being. The door to his room is only slightly ajar, but it is enough to let Sunwoo hear just about everything. Chanhee's footsteps are light and quick on the tiles as he rushes over, the door shrieking on its hinges as he pushes it open.

Sunwoo groans, pulling his covers over his head to shield himself from the light. Chanhee's chuckle as he sits next to him is mocking but fond, his fingers gentle as he pulls his covers down and offers him a brand new tissue. Sunwoo feels every brand of gross and he is sure he has never looked worse for wear.

He hates being sick, he really does, but he doesn’t think he will ever be opposed to the way Chanhee takes care of him. It isn’t without nagging or without the usual bickering, though, even if Sunwoo doesn’t have the energy to argue back—most of the time, at least. Still, Chanhee places a plastic bag from the pharmacy on his bedside table and a tray with a bowl of steaming soup over his lap.

Chanhee's cooking is divine, and the only thing that manages to make Sunwoo feel a little less like shit in these trying times.

Even when Sunwoo tells him to leave or to wait outside, as he goes through minute-long coughing fits and snot starts running down his nose, Chanhee doesn’t budge. Instead, he goes to his linen closet and grabs him warmer blankets. He throws it over his legs and tucks it under his feet, because Sunwoo had complained once about cold toes and he had never been able to forget it, it seems.

Chanhee knows him like the palm of his hand. To feel exposed and so seen feels equally scary and exciting, even if nothing with Chanhee is truly ever scary.

Sunwoo falls asleep sometime after three, with gloomy clouds outside his window and Chanhee's fingers in his hair. His chest may feel heavy and he may feel like utter shit, but he knows he is safe if he has Chanhee next to him.

🍂🌧

Sunwoo finds love in candlelit rooms, on a starless winter night.

The storm raging outside Chanhee's window has wiped out the power of his entire building, and Chanhee doesn’t stop complaining about wasting his scented candles like this. The apartment smells like a weird mixture of sandalwood, lavender, and vanilla. Sunwoo half-heartedly complains, even if he knows Chanhee hates the mixture just as much.

It’s not all too bad, though. Chanhee looks absolutely breathtaking under the faint glow of the fire casting yellow over his skin, his fingers cold as they trace mindless patterns on the back of Sunwoo's hand.

There isn’t much they can do other than talk, and talk, and _talk—_ being vulnerable isn’t Chanhee's forte, but it is in the late hours of the night that his walls come crashing down. Sunwoo listens and is there for him when his voice gets caught in his throat and his fingers tighten around his hand. Sunwoo listens, and holds him, and falls in love with him time and time again.

Because Chanhee is the one who has been there for him since day one, and has stuck with him through the bad and the ugly. For every failed date, every successful relationship, and every heartbreak, for every doubt and every question he has had, Chanhee has been right there to comfort and to guide him, to cheer him up and ease his pains.

Without words, Chanhee has shown Sunwoo how raw love can be.

It is hard for Chanhee to say it, and Sunwoo has only heard it once – Chanhee had been high off antihistamines and cough syrup, falling in and out of sleep. Sunwoo almost missed it with the way his voice slurred around his words, faint with the lack of strength in his lungs. Buried under five layers of blankets and running a fever, Chanhee thanked Sunwoo for loving him back.

And Sunwoo feels just _so much._

Things fell into place as easily as Sunwoo intertwines his fingers with Chanhee's, as he pulls him in and into a kiss. Chanhee's lips are soft on his and strawberry-flavored from his favorite chapstick. Sunwoo thinks there is no other place he would rather be.

Thunder roars in the skies and makes the glass of the windows shake; the rain sound almost sends him back in time, to when he was thirteen and Chanhee seemed like the coolest boy he has ever known, hot chocolate mugs in hand as Chanhee's mother lit up candles on an equally stormy night. It was different then from what it is now, and yet not much has really changed.

Sunwoo doesn’t think how long this will last. They are in their mid-twenties, and life is a storm around them, and there still so much to happen he dares not think of the future. Time is a social construct, Chanhee often reminds him, and forever can mean both an eternity and for as long as they will have it.

People grow together and apart. That is the natural movement of life, like waves washing up the shore and being drawn back to the ocean. In the high tide, Sunwoo feels his heart squeeze in his chest every time he looks at Chanhee and the foam scatters over the sand, leaving traces as the water starts pulling back only to crash all over again.

Time may be a social construct, but Sunwoo remembers loving Chanhee since day one. Love comes in many forms and ways, and even if they express it so differently, he knows Chanhee feels the same.

Sunwoo finds love through the seasons, in a boy whose smile can light up the world even in the darkest of nights. He finds love in small gestures and unspoken words, in someone that feels most like home than any place could ever feel.

Sunwoo finds love in Chanhee loving him back, and, boy, does it feel good to feel like he’s got everything right there.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes letting people know you love them without words means a lot  
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/changminize) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/changminize)


End file.
